“Because maybe you want to settle this yourself, but I’ve got a stake. Two of my guys. Even if they never had a chance.”
Wells said nothing. At this point, he didn’t plan to tell Michaels that though he didn’t know his assassins, he had a pretty good idea who’d sent them.
“Any of them carrying ID?” Shafer said.
“No. But the bikes had temporary Georgia tags. And one of the guys had a Marriott keycard in his pocket. We’re checking every hotel within a hundred miles and we’ll go from there. The first guy was carrying a key to a Pathfinder. We haven’t found it yet.” Michaels drummed his big fingers on the table. “We don’t have to do it now but we’re going to need an official statement, John. For us, the D.C. police, the FBI.”
“Sure.”
“Shouldn’t take long. With all the weapons we found on them—”
“I told you it’s no problem.”
“I’ll let you know when I hear more. I’m sorry, John. I mean it. We owed you better.” Michaels disappeared into the hall.
Shafer waited until the door was closed.
“You think you know who did this, don’t you?”
Wells said nothing.
“Don’t play with me, John. I’ve known her longer than you have.”
“Yes, I think I know.”
“So tell me.” Shafer waited. “Of course. I get it. Your fault and you’re the only one who can fix it. The man of steel. Don’t you see this is how you got into this mess?”
“You just love being the smartest guy in the room, don’t you, Ellis.”
“Let me help you.”
Wells shook his head. The silence stretched on as an ugly fifties-style clock above the table clicked away the seconds. Finally, Shafer stood, reached for the door.
“All right. Play it your way.”
“Pierre Kowalski. I think.”
Shafer sat. “Why? He’s lucky we didn’t bust him for helping the Chinese.”
“I never told you what I did when I broke into his house.” Wells explained how he’d tied Kowalski up, humiliated him.
“You wrapped his head in duct tape,” Shafer said when Wells was done.
“I made sure he could breathe.”
“That was thoughtful.”
“So you see.”
“Yeah, I see why he might be pissed.” Wells saw the unasked question on Shafer’s face:
“Even so, maybe it wasn’t him,” Shafer said. “Maybe it was al-Qaeda.”
“Qaeda would have put a truck bomb in front of the house. Kowalski was furious that night I taped him up. Told me he’d get me no matter what. And we know he’s got contacts in Russia. These guys this morning, they were pros. You get it now, Ellis? You see why I think I may have to do this myself?”
“I get it.”
Neither of them needed to say the obvious: These days, Russia was going out of its way to prove that it didn’t need the West. In 2006, when a former KGB operative was poisoned at a London restaurant, the Kremlin had basically refused to help Scotland Yard investigate. If the connection between Kowalski and today’s assassination ran through Moscow, the CIA would have a tough job convincing the Russians to cooperate.
“It’s not so bad, John,” Shafer said. “Two of our own died today. Practically in front of the White House. We can’t ignore that kind of provocation. If we can lock it down, find the link, the big man will put a lot of pressure on the Kremlin.”
“If we can lock it down.”
“Promise me one thing. Whatever you do, tell me. Ahead of time. At least give me a chance to give you some advice. Since I am the smartest guy in the room.”
“All right.”
“Now let’s find out how your girl’s doing.”
“Our girl,” Wells said.
“Our girl.”
But the nurses had no news. Exley was still in surgery.
“What does that mean?” Shafer said.
“It means she’s still in surgery. Are you a relative, sir?”
Wells leaned into the nurse. “Ms. Exley is my fiancee. So, please, if you have any information—”
“I don’t. You probably won’t hear much for a while more.”
“Thank you.”
“Fiancee?” Shafer whispered as the nurse walked away. “Was it a special invisible ring? Because I didn’t see it.”
“She didn’t care about the ring.”
“You really don’t understand women at all.”
And you don’t understand Exley, Wells didn’t say. She would have been happy with a Cracker Jack ring. Though maybe Shafer was right. He’d managed to stay married for thirty years; Wells had barely lasted two.
“Were you going to make it official?” Shafer said. “Or did she not care about that part either?”
“New Year’s, we were saying. Something simple, our way. Just before the South America trip. The trip was the honeymoon.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“We didn’t tell anyone. Just her kids. Not even our exes yet.” Wells turned away from Shafer, leaned his head against a wall, closed his eyes. The white plaster was cool and reassuring.
“Ellis, what am I gonna say to her kids?”
“That you love her. And that she’s going to be fine.”
WHEN WELLS OPENED HIS EYES, Vinny Duto, the CIA director, was beside him. Around Duto stood five sides of beef, the director’s security detail.
Duto extended a hand, and Wells saw no alternative but to take it. Since the Times Square mission, when Duto had questioned Wells’s loyalty, Wells could barely stand being in the same room as the man. The feeling was mutual, he supposed. Duto viewed him as arrogant, untouchable, a loose cannon. Maybe Duto was right.
“I’m sorry, John. Truly. How is she?”
“Still in surgery.”
Duto gently rested a hand on Wells’s shoulder. “Mind coming out to the car so we can talk in private?”
The car was a heavily armored Suburban with run-flat tires, a specially raised undercarriage, and inch-thick glass that could stop an automatic rifle round. Wells followed Duto into the backseats.
“John,” Duto said. “I want you to know that we will do everything we can here. Everything possible to catch whoever did this.”
Wells stared out the Suburban’s smoked windows, watching as a heavyset woman picked her way down the sidewalk toward the hospital. A thin cold rain was falling, and the media hordes had already arrived, the camera trucks and long-lens photographers. The D.C. police had set up a block-long perimeter around the hospital to hold them at bay. Good. Wells had no appetite for their nonsense.
“You have a pretty nice ride here, Vinny. I was just telling Jennifer this morning we needed to trade up.”
Again Duto put a hand on Wells’s shoulder. This time Wells shook him off. “Whatever it takes, we’ll get these guys.”
“Or have a good excuse if you don’t.”
Duto’s mask slipped for a moment and Wells saw the anger underneath it, the tightness around his eyes and
